


Holiday Dadneto

by Queen_Valkyrie



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Hanukkah, Holidays, I guess this is kind of a sequel to Peter I Am Your Father?, Peter is awkward but so is Erik, Thanksgiving, all you need to know is that erik knows he's peter's dad, dadneto, you don't need to read that one though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 20:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8504305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Valkyrie/pseuds/Queen_Valkyrie
Summary: Through Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, Peter and Erik get to know each other a little better and build their relationship as father and son.





	1. Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> I really ought to finish what I started with the end of _A Knife In The Gut_ , but I started writing this the day after Halloween and I just had to get it out. I freaking love Peter and Erik so much. I need more of them in my life. Hope you guys enjoy this weird holiday fluff.

Peter loved Halloween. Seriously. He _loved_ it. Even if he hadn’t gone all-out _(like he used to in his teens, when the times were different and he was younger and it was more socially acceptable to dress up)_ in years, it was still probably his favorite holiday. Christmas came close, but there was just something about the chilly-but-not-quite-cold air, changing leaves, and general spookiness of the season that he just couldn’t get enough of. 

This year’s Halloween was going to be especially great. Sure, his summer had been rough, what with the crazy world-ending mutant Apocalypse guy, and his month in a cast, and that whole telling-Erik-he-was-Peter’s-father debacle. But now that was over, and the X-Mansion was completely and totally rebuilt, and school had just started back up in September, and Peter had found a bunch of cool new friends in the X-Men _(although he wasn’t totally sure the term ‘cool’ could be applied to Scott and be accurate, even for as much as Scott tried to prove otherwise)_ , and his favorite holiday was just a couple days away.

“Alright, scrubs,” he announced, slamming his plate down on the lunch table and flopping into his seat, “We’re taking a road trip today.”

“What for?” Kurt asked, still chewing his hamburger.

“Halloween is in four days. We’re going to all the thrift stores and getting costumes and makeup and whatever we need.”

Scott chuckled and pointed his fork at Peter. “Dress up? What, are we planning on going trick-or-treating? Cause I think you’re a little old for that.”

“No, you dingus, I’m throwing a Halloween party. And there’s gonna be a costume competition.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to get downtown to buy what we need?”

“I have my driver’s license, you know.”

Jean lifted one eyebrow and smirked. “Yeah, but the Professor probably won’t let us go out without an adult.”

“I _am_ an adult.”

“Legally, maybe. Mentally? That’s up in the air. Besides, all Charles owns are really nice cars, and there’s no way he’d let you take one out. Everybody knows you speed like crazy.”

“Well, then we’ll drag Hank and Raven along with us. They’re fairly responsible.”

“Sorry,” Raven interrupted, “But Hank and I already have our costumes.”

“Well, technically, I have a costume,” Hank corrected. “Raven doesn’t really need one.”

Jubilee scoffed. “You are so lucky you can shapeshift. My costume took forever to make. And I still have to get my hair all straight, which is a total pain in my ass.”

“Who are you going to be?” Ororo asked, cocking her head to one side.

“Um, that’s a secret. Obviously. You guys are gonna be so blown away though.”

Raven pursed her lips and glared at Peter, eyebrows furrowed. “I know who you should ask.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Erik.”

Peter cackled. “Right. I’m sure he’d love to spend all day shopping with a bunch of teenagers.”

“You’d be surprised. He told me he wants to spend more time with you.”

“Spending time and shopping are totally different. I’m not asking Erik.”

“Not asking Erik what?”

Peter whipped around in his chair, and there, standing behind him, towering over him, was Erik, _his dad_ , arms folded and a smirk creeping its way across one side of his face.

“Wha- Nothing.”

“Peter.”

“Seriously, you wouldn’t be interested, I don’t want to bother you-”

“I’m already here, just tell me.”

Peter shifted his shoulders and groaned. “We’re going Halloween shopping. But Jean says that the Prof won’t let us out of the house without a ‘responsible adult’ or something like that.”

“And you’re not a responsible adult?”

“That’s still up for debate.”

Erik chuckled and lifted an eyebrow. “I have no plans for the rest of the day, if you’re in need.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Alright, cool. We’ll meet you in the garage in 15?”

His dad nodded and walked away, and Peter turned back to his friends at the table. “Guess we’re set then. Finish your food and get whatever you need. Garage in 15 minutes.”  
\---------------------  
Erik and Peter stood together in the thrift store, arms folded, looking out over the rest of the team perusing the racks.

“You’re not buying anything?” Erik asked, looking at his son with his brows knitted together.

“Oh, I’ve had my costume done for like a week now. It’s not really something I could buy, so I had to have Mom help me make it.”

“How is your mother?”

“She’s okay. Wendy just started her last year of high school, and Mom’s kinda stressed about the whole college-search thing, but they seem like they’re doing well right now.”

“You have a sister?”

“Half-sister, yeah. That’s Wendy. She’s kind of a pain in my ass, but she has her moments.”

“How old?”

“Seventeen.”

“And is she… like us?”

“No,” Peter chuckled. “Thank God.”

Erik let out a little “Hmm,” and returned to watching the teenagers.

It was quiet for a few long minutes _(except for the obnoxiously peppy music playing softly over the store’s speakers, and Peter wondered if you could request music at a store like you could at a bar or something, or maybe at least request a radio station for them to play?)_ , until Erik broke the silence.

“When did you find out?”

“About what?”

“About me.”

“Oh. You know that day in DC, when you tried to kill Nixon?”

“Yes, I was there.”

“Ha, ha. Well your whole brotherhood-of-mutants speech was kind of on every news station, and Mom was watching it with me and Wendy, and I was like, oh shit, that’s the guy that I just broke out of the Pentagon, and now he’s trying to kill the President and threatening, like, _all_ humans, I kinda fucked up there, but I didn’t say anything about it, and then I noticed that Mom looked really shocked about the whole thing. Like, more than you would expect with a guy threatening like all humans. And I waited until later that day when Wendy had gone to bed, and I asked her why she was so shaken up about it, and she broke the news.”

“That can’t have been the most pleasant time for you to find out.”

“Yeah, it kind of sucked. I was really angry about the whole thing for a long time. Mom told me maybe five years ago about all the stuff that happened when you were younger, and about the whole Nazi-hunting thing, and I was kind of less angry after that. I mean, I know it’s still attempted murder and everything, even if you have a cool motive, but still. I became pretty much okay with everything about three years ago.”

“So you’ve known for ten years.”

“Yeah.”

“And accepted it for three.”

“Right.”

“And you never once tried to confront me?”

“When I was pissed about it, I thought about finding you and beating the shit out of you a lot. But you were kind of in hiding, and Mom didn’t want me leaving the house much then anyways. I was younger and stupider, and she knew you were dangerous.”

“Interesting use of the past tense.”

“`Scuse me?”

“You said, ‘ _were_ dangerous’. I’m still dangerous, Peter,” Erik smiled, though only half-joking.

“Yeah, but so am I now. I’m all trained and everything. And you wouldn’t attack me now anyways.”

Erik grinned his shark-like grin and shoved Peter with his shoulder. “Don’t push your luck, young man.”

“Please, old man,” Peter returned the grin, “You couldn’t catch me even if I did piss you off.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. There’s plenty of metal in what you’re wearing right now.”

Peter placed one hand over his heart and gasped dramatically. “You wouldn’t.”

“No promises,” Erik replied, staring at his son, his shark grin fading into a smaller smile.  
\------------------------  
All the younger kids spilled into the great hall before anyone that Peter actually knew. He had made sure to set up his record player and sound system at the front of the room, opposite from the doors, so he could see everybody that walked in.

“How did you get your hair that color?” A voice from behind him asked, and Peter jumped nearly three feet in the air.

“ _Jesus_ , Kurt!” Peter huffed, clutching his chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I did _what_?” Kurt backed away, looking horrified.

“Not literally, dude, it’s just an expression.”

“Oh.” Regaining his cool, Peter got an opportunity to actually look at Kurt’s costume. His jacket and pants were the same striking shade of red, and someone _(if Peter knew anything, it was probably Jubilee)_ had styled his black hair into a hundred little curls.

“Michael Jackson?”

“You figured that out quickly.”

“Yeah, well, he’s got a pretty distinct style. Besides, music’s my thing, remember?”

“Right. So how did you get your hair that color?”

“It’s just hair dye.”

“So your hair will be stuck like that?”

“Only for a couple of days, then it’ll be back to normal.”

“Oh.”

“Kurt!” Jubilee’s voice echoed throughout the room. “You look great!”

Peter and Kurt headed over to meet her and Ororo, who she had walked in with. Jubilee was clad in a bright blue, full-body jumpsuit, and her long hair fell straight down her back. Ororo had colored her hair black, drawn on a skinny goatee, and wore an entirely purple suit.

Peter lifted one eyebrow and grinned, folding his arms. “Cher and Prince. You guys are too easy. Good job, though.”

“You too, man. This is awesome,” Jubilee said, reaching out to poke at Peter’s face. “Did you put any powder so it doesn’t smudge?”

“No, so don’t touch it.”

She pulled her hand back and pursed her lips. “Dude.”

“Oh my god,” Scott announced as he and Jean walked into the great hall, “You guys look ridiculous.”

Peter looked past Jubilee to see Scott and Jean, and cackled. “Like you’re one to talk, pompadour.”

“Hey, I look cool.”

“You look wrong,” Ororo murmured. “Danny Zuko didn’t wear sunglasses.”

“Yeah, well Danny Zuko didn’t have laser eyes.”

“And Sandy wasn’t a redhead,” Jubilee continued. “You look super hot though, Jean.”

Jean just smiled good-naturedly and thanked Jubilee. “You guys look great too. Pete, where on Earth did you get that outfit?”

Peter grinned and adjusted his shoulders. “I made it.”

“No way.”

Scott scoffed. “You so do not have the patience for that.”

“I’ll have you know I will always have the patience for Halloween.”

“Yeah, well you might be the only one.”

“Hey, kids.” Hank’s voice came from the doorway, and they all turned to see him, normal-looking and not blue, glasses-free, in a black jacket, white shirt, and black pants with a utility belt. Raven was next to him, also not blue, and her hair was dark and braided up in a ring around her head. She was in all white, with a puffy vest over an equally puffy jacket, and they both had fake laser guns attached to their hips.

“Oh my god,” Jubilee clapped, “You guys look great!”

“Raven, why didn’t you just shapeshift into Carrie Fisher?” Peter asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Because then it’s not a costume. And it’d be weird for me to look just like Carrie Fisher and have Hank not look just like Harrison Ford.”

Peter shrugged. “I guess that’s fair.”

“And why isn’t there any music? I thought you were the DJ?”

“Oh, shit!” Peter raced back over to the front of the hall and put _Thriller_ on his record player, and the everyone in the room started to dance. Satisfied with his choice, Peter leaned back on the wall and just watched everybody else. He barely noticed Erik striding up and leaning next to him _(except for the fact that of course he did, he was acutely aware of every time Erik was anywhere near him, because holy shit, oh my god, it was his dad! His dad his dad his dad and it was a little easier now that they both knew about everything but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still get a little freaked out every time Erik talked to him, he couldn’t help it)_ , until he spoke.

“I thought the lightning bolt was a shirtless look. Didn’t Bowie have the circle-” he motioned to his forehead and swirled his finger around- “when he wore that outfit?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think Charles would approve of me going shirtless. And the lightning bolt is more iconic than the circle.”

“Hm.”

“I’m impressed you know David Bowie that well.”

Erik shrugged. “I figured it might be beneficial if we tried to learn a bit about one another’s interests.”

Peter turned to his dad, a grin spreading across his face. “So I should start learning about turtlenecks and holding grudges for decades?”

“Very funny.”

“Seriously, though, I don’t know shit about your interests.”

“You could stand to learn chess.”

Peter groaned. “Are you kidding me? That’s gonna take _forever_. You know I don’t do stuff slowly.”

“Haven’t you ever the phrase ‘patience is a virtue’?”

“Yeah, and it’s a virtue I don’t have. Sorry to disappoint.”

Erik knit his eyebrows together and took a long look at Peter. “You don’t.”

“Huh?”

“You’re not a disappointment.”

Peter chuckled nervously. “It was just a joke, dude.”

“I understand that. But you should know that it’s true. You’re not a disappointment. Not to me or anyone else here.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it, Peter.”

Peter shifted his jaw and his shoulders and looked over at Erik, _his dad, not just his father, his dad, whose blue eyes drilled into him without a hint of insincerity, and Peter just knew, he knew, he_ knew _Erik meant it._

“I know. And I can’t speak for everyone, only me, but…” Peter chewed at his lip. “You’re not a disappointment either.”

Erik smiled slightly and lifted one eyebrow, looking over at his son without turning his head. “Would you have said that ten years ago?”

Peter scoffed. “Hell no.”


	2. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just three days before Thanksgiving, Peter catches a fever. Erik isn't entirely sure how to handle him, especially when he's being weird and delusional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter isn't so much about the actual holiday as the other two are. There's really only a couple mentions of Thanksgiving. But it's more about the thankfulness or whatever... I don't know. I don't even know. It's also significantly shorter than last chapter, but I just felt like there was less to write about here. I'm fairy certain next chapter is quite a bit longer. Hope you guys enjoy anyways!

“I am _not_ sick.”

“Pete, you’re running a fever of nearly 103,” Hank insisted. “You’re sick. Get in bed.”

“You can’t _make_ me!” Peter demanded, the sickness distorting his voice.

“You need rest or you’re just going to get sicker.”

“No, you don’t _know_ , Hank, I’ll just burn it off, I burn everything off.”

“You can’t outrun a fever.”

“I,” Peter announced, “am Quicksilver. I can outrun anything. I have outrun my problems for years, a fever is no problem.”

“You’re delusional.”

“And you’re a fascist.”

Hank sighed and shook his head, and brought one blue fist down on Peter’s head. With a grunt, he hoisted the younger man over one shoulder and headed towards Peter’s room. He was walking down the hallway and rounding a corner when Erik appeared before him, nearly knocking him over.

“Sorry, Hank-” He stepped back and furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s going on here?”

“He’s sick.”

“And you’re carrying him down the hall… why?”

“He refused to believe that he’s sick. So I had to take some measures.”

“Ah.”

“No kidding.”

“You know,” Erik offered, “If you have things to do, I can watch him and make sure he doesn’t try and pull anything.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, I was only heading to the library.”

“All right. Let me drop him off and I’ll go get some medicine. Just make sure he takes it when he wakes up.”

Erik opened the door and Hank half-placed, half-threw Peter onto the bed. Erik pulled a chair up next to the bed and pulled a book out of his jacket. Aside from laying a couple blankets on top of Peter to try and help him sweat out the fever, he did little else. He didn’t take much notice of Hank when he came in and placed a glass of water and two pills on Peter’s bedside table. He just read. Sat by his son and read. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. It could have been fifteen minutes, it could have been an hour and a half. It was only when Peter let out a groan that he bothered to look up.

“Good,” he noted. “You’re up. You have medicine you need to take.”

Peter didn’t say a word. He just stared at Erik with his mouth open, his nearly-black eyes wide.

“Are you going to take your medicine?”

More staring.

“I don’t want to have to make you, but I will if need be.”

“ _Youuu…_ ” Peter dragged out, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re that guy.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“The helmet guy.”

“Well, Hank wasn’t kidding about the delusional bit.”

“The helmet and cape guy.”

“Right. Come on, Peter, let’s get you that medicine.”

“Woah,” Peter warned, pointing at Erik with one accusatory finger. “How do you know my name?”

Erik lifted one eyebrow and pursed his lips. “You told me.”

Peter looked baffled, as if it was a scandalous action to tell Erik his name.

“Peter, just take the medicine. If you’re not better in a few days, you won’t be able to come to Thanksgiving dinner.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Peter declared, “I’m gonna miss all the food.”

“You won’t if you take your medicine.”

“What medicine?”

“For god’s sake-” Erik rubbed his temple between his fingers. “It’s on the beside table.”

“ _Ohhhhhh_.”

Peter turned down the corners of his mouth and nodded in some sort of odd approval. He popped both pills into his mouth at once and gulped them down with water, and Erik gave him a small smile of confirmation.

“I’m fuckin’ _tired_ , man,” Peter drawled out.

“Then sleep.”

Peter blinked at Erik a few times and sniffed. “Okay.” He flopped down on his pillow and closed his dark eyes, shuffling his shoulders to get as comfortable as possible.

Erik rolled his eyes and smiled, pulling the many blankets up around Peter’s shoulders. He returned to his book, barely the catching the quiet “Thanks, Dad,” that Peter mumbled as he dozed off.  
Erik was never one for giving much thanks.

And he certainly wouldn’t mention this at the dinner table in a few days, in front of Charles and Raven and Hank and all the children, but it was quiet little moments like this with his son that Erik was particularly thankful for.


	3. Hanukkah/Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas rolls around, but Peter decides to give Erik his present on Hanukkah instead, since he knows Erik probably celebrates that. Erik, on the other hand, saves his present for Christmas day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! I freaking love these dorks so much. My sons. Both of them. Gifts to mankind. We need more Dadneto in this world. More Peter and Erik interaction. Brian Singer, why do you deprive us of these things? Anyways. Hope you all enjoy!

It was two in the morning on December 8th, 1983, and Peter couldn’t sleep. _(What else was new?)_ He trudged down to one of the mansion’s many kitchens, looking for the stash of sleeping pills that he just _knew_ Erik had stolen from Hank and put in a kitchen cabinet somewhere. He was trying to be quiet _(or at least as quiet as one could be while rummaging through a bunch of bottles of pills that rattled fairly loudly when you moved them at all)_ , but he must have not been quiet enough, because a voice rang out from behind him.

“Are we not sleeping again?”

Peter turned and was met with the half-smile of Erik, who was leaning in the doorway with his arms folded.

“Yeah, I don’t really sleep a lot.”

“I figured.”

“Sorry if I woke you up.”

“I was already awake.”

“Well what were _you_ doing up at two in the morning?”

“Sleep doesn’t come easily to me either.”

“Ah-hah.”

“Would you care for any company?”

“I was actually just looking for your secret stash of sleeping pills so I could go back to bed. But if you’re already here, I do have something to show you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I was gonna do it later today, but we’re both here now, so.”

“All right. What did you want to show me?”

“It’s actually in the library.”

“Then let’s go to the library.”

“Okay.”

Erik turned and left the kitchen first, and Peter sped up ever so slightly to catch up, so they were walking side-by-side. It was dead quiet in the mansion, save for the quietly thudding footsteps of Peter and Erik, and not a word was said until they made it to the doors of the library.

“Close your eyes real quick.”

Erik did so, and there was a _whoosh_ and a few clatters as Peter set his surprise up. “Okay, you can open them now.”

“So,” Peter began, and he could feel the knot in his stomach tightening, but he pushed past it and continued on. “I know, like, jack shit about Hanukkah, but I know today’s the last day and I figured you probably celebrate Hanukkah and not Christmas since you’re Jewish, so instead of giving you your gift on Christmas, I’m giving it to you now. On Hanukkah.”

Erik knit his eyebrows together and looked at Peter, a little baffled. “That’s… very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s really nothing.”

“I mean it, Peter. Thank you.”

Peter chuckled nervously. “I haven’t even given you your gift yet, old man.”

“Even so.”

“Right. So I remembered a couple months ago, back on Halloween, you mentioned that maybe we should look into each other’s interests. So…” Peter stepped to the side, revealing the gift that sat on the table. “I made you a chess board. Game. Thing.”

Erik walked forward slowly and looked down at the board. Each of the pieces was different, and Erik noticed something familiar about each of the pieces.

“Are these…?”

“Us? Yeah.”

Erik picked up the white king, noting the bald head and the wheelchair.

“It’s got you, and Charles, and me, and Hank, and Raven, and Jean, and Scott, and Kurt, and Ororo, and Jubilee, and Logan, and a couple other people that Charles told me about from like 20 years ago.”

“Why am I the queen?”

“Well isn’t the queen the most powerful piece?”

“She is.”

“There you go then.”

Erik shook his head in disbelief. “How did you do this?”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to carve stuff out of wood when you have super speed.”

Erik just let out a long breath and continued to stare at the board.

“Plus, they all have little metal rod-things in them if you wanna play without actually touching them.”

“This is amazing.”

“Really, it’s not a big deal, I just-”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I, man.”

“Peter.”

“Erik.”

“Thank you. Truly.”

Peter gave his dad a small smile, caught between wanting to enjoy the moment and wanting to escape from the gaze Erik was drilling into his skull. “You’re welcome. Besides, I figured you might actually drag me into playing with you sometime, and if I have to play against you in chess, I’d much rather do it as Apocalypse.”  
\---------------------  
Christmas morning, 1983. Charles and Raven had dragged Erik out of bed at an ungodly hour and insisted he help them prepare breakfast for the kids who were left in the mansion. Most everyone had left to spend Christmas with their families, and it was only Charles, Erik, and the rest of the X-Men who were left in the house. Erik worked steadily on the cinnamon rolls while Raven cooked scrambled eggs and Charles fried copious amounts of bacon, and Hank joined them around 8:30 to start work on his famous gingerbread pancakes.

At 9, Peter was the first one down in the kitchen, followed swiftly by the rest of the kids. “Oh my god,” he groaned. “It smells _so_ good in here. When do we get to eat?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” Scott agreed.

“Breakfast comes after stockings,” Raven insisted. “Everybody go grab yours and sit around the fireplace. We’ll be right out with the food.”

Erik balanced trays of food on both arms as he headed out to the living room, where all the kids were seated around the fireplace, tearing through their stockings and chatting about everything they got.

Once stockings were done, everyone devoured the food like they had been in the wilderness without food for weeks on end.

“I feel like I might burst,” Kurt moaned, laying on the couch.

“Scoot your legs, man,” Jubilee shoved him, “I need to sit.”

“All right,” Raven announced, standing in front of the fireplace, looking over everyone else. “Since I am the Czar of Christmas, I will begin the gift-giving. Whoever receives the gift I give them will select the next gift, and so on, and so on. You cannot give a gift to the person who just gave you one. Those are the rules.”

Ororo raised her hand. “What if there is a joint gift, where it is given to multiple people?”

“Then those multiple people will select the next gift together.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Raven moved to the Christmas tree. She picked up a medium-sized box and tossed it to Hank, and the gift exchange began. Erik received a few small gifts from the kids and Hank, but when Peter picked a gift from under the tree and announced that it was from himself to Erik, the older man was taken aback.

“So I already gave Erik his big gift back during Hanukkah, but I saw these when I went out shopping for everybody else, and I couldn’t resist. Merry Christmas, Pops.”

He tossed a small box to Erik, and Erik reluctantly peeled back the wrapping paper. Inside the box was a pair of tall black socks, embroidered with white stars and yellow words. They read, in the very distinct font that Erik knew came from _Star Wars_ , “I am your father.”

He rolled his eyes and held them up, leading to a series of laughs from everyone. Peter gave Erik a shit-eating grin and held up both thumbs.

“You should have gotten these for Father’s Day,” Erik quipped, and everyone dissolved into more cackles.

He pushed himself off of the arm chair and grabbed a gift for Raven, and the cycle began again.

The gift-giving had started dying down as the last few presents were left under the tree, and Erik made sure his best gift was last. He waited until the only thing left under the Christmas tree was a small envelope, and he bent down to grab it.

“The last gift,” he announced, “Is from me to Peter. I didn’t give it to you on Hanukkah because I know you don’t celebrate Hanukkah. Merry Christmas.”

He handed the envelope to Peter, who stared at it, then at Erik, then at the envelope again.

“Here goes nothing,” he shrugged, and peeled the flap off.

He reached inside and pulled out six long, thin, strips of paper, and his jaw dropped. “No way,” he breathed, and he flipped through them again and again. “No way are these real.”

“They’re very real.”

“No fucking way,” Peter laughed in disbelief, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Charles knit his eyebrows together and leaned forward in his chair. “What are they?”

Peter laughed again and held up the tickets. “Aerosmith, Back in the Saddle Tour,” he confirmed, holding up two. “Queen, The Works Tour.” Two more. “AC/DC, Flick of the Switch Tour.” Final two. “I can’t believe you- Where’d you even get these?”

“I asked around and found someone who was selling.”

“This is- I can’t…” He shook his head and grinned, and looked up at Erik. He grinned even wider, his dimples deepening, and set the tickets down on the couch, standing up.

With another laugh, he threw his arms around Erik’s neck and held on. “This is the best gift anybody’s ever gotten me.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Really. Thank you, Dad.”

Erik’s heart felt like it was being stabbed and healed all at once, and he didn’t really know what to do, so he just returned the hug.

“Merry Christmas, Peter.”


End file.
